care

i'm sure we've all heard the old adage that in order for someone else to truly love you, you have to love yourself. it always sounded like a bunch of horseshit until i realized the truth in that statement.

tonight i had the displeasure of going through what i like to call a mini-breakdown. it included panic, fear, loathing, hate, loneliness, fatigue, anger and a whole bunch of hurt and self doubt. this happens to me when i least expect it which makes it hurt all the more. i mean, really, iris....don't you know yourself well enough to know the warning signs? apparently not.

i've had a rough couple of weeks. between opportunities at work literally knocking down my door (which is a great thing but scary) to my kidlets being away from me pre-christmas to them being home with me post-christmas to being alone with my thoughts during those two weeks, well, i've been living in my head more than usual. this, if you know me at all, is not a positive thing. you see, the voices that are in my head are not particularly nice to me. granted, they've improved drastically but still, they don't sound great. i've said many times that although i want them to sound like barry white and woo me into a seductive trance, wafting at me and making me love every inch of my beautiful soul, it doesn't happen. the voice sounds more like courtney love after a bender...or maybe before a bender. either way it's a gruff, smoky, ugly bitch of a voice that scream obscenities at me and plays really bad grunge music which smearing lipstick all over her bruised face. it aint pretty.

so here i am. alone in my big house. it doesn't feel like a home right now. what makes it a home is my family. and right now they are 1/2 a mile away at dickhole's house, likely asleep and happy in their beds which leaves me with a real joy. if they're happy then that's all that matters to me. and the other part of my life that feels like home was off fixing a car somewhere for a friend. and here i sit. desperate to figure out how to care for myself. if i'm worth caring for. if he understands just how much care i need sometimes. if i should even ask for such care from someone other than myself?

unfortunately the answer is far too clear when it comes to my sweet westley. he isn't here. he's just not here. and i'm not sure he can be here the way that i crave. for a warm body next to me to lull to sleep. for a kind word or a sweet glance when i'm on the verge of tears. for a conversation that will get me out of my head and back to a place where i can listen to my real voice, not the ugly post grunge 40something in my head. she's ugly and i don't like how she treats me.

instead i told him. i told him how disappointed and hurt and angry i am that i'm never at the top of his to do list. i suggested we take a break and see where things unfold. see where i fit into his world. where i fit into my own. and you know what...i deserve more. i deserve to be the center of my life. i deserve to be the center of my own fucking life and i deserve companionship and love and support. but who am i to look for it in someone else, through someone else? who am i to demand such a powerful love when i can't love myself in that same way? i mean really...what the fuck! i know it's not in someone else, even the love that he give and that has become a part of me. i have it within me. yes, i still see there being a real problem when it comes to feeling like i'm part of his everyday but it's my problem, not his.

when push comes to shove, i have it deep within me. under the ugly courtney love voice is a melodic, powerful voice that resonates and pushes her out. it's loud, it's fucking dial goes way past eleven and although i can't put a name to the voice, i know her. she tells me that i'm loved and that i contain a multitude. that i'm fine just as i am and that all of this, all of this that we do everyday to stay above water, is for a great reason. a greater reason than i will ever understand and that i need to trust the process, not just the immediate result. but fuck, it's so hard sometimes. sometimes i just have to have my mini-breakdown and say "i want the entire story, straight up, in front of me for me to control and know and see and feel and touch and understand".

so tonight i'm not dulling the pain or the voices with a pint of mint chocolate chip...although a swiss cake roll would be my fucking bitch if i weren't already in my jammies!!! instead i'm writing about how i feel. i'm crying, i'm weeping, i'm beating my fist into my pillow and i'm feeling all of it. i'm writing about being hurt and feeling ignored. by him and by myself. enough already. i won't be ignored, i won't be a burden, i refuse to be a martyr and i refuse to be anything less than iris.

for whatever reason, i want to run. i want to run and feel it and ache and become breathless and feel it and feel it and feel it. all of it. i think it's time i start caring. i want to care.